The Proposal
by spacebongo
Summary: It is how it is, has been, and always will be. Until one day it isn’t enough. A little AU/Future fluff piece.


**THE PROPOSAL**

**BY SPACEBONGO**

**This is a one off AU fluff piece that I needed to exorcise from my head. I hope you enjoy!**

Nate loves Serena, adores her, makes love to her every weekend even, but always comes home to Blair. And Chuck watches from the sidelines. It is how it is, has been, and always will be. Until one day it isn't enough.

"He's just running late, you know how conscientious Nate is." Blair forces a smile as she cradles the newest Waldorf-Archibald baby against her chest, her eyes flitting nervously between the clock and Chuck's profile as he rests his forehead against the doorway between the upstairs hall and the Yellow Nursery. "What time did you say you were meeting him again?"

"I didn't."

"No need to get snippy, Chuck. As you can see I have better things to do than play hostess to drunk out of their ass CEO's with daddy issues at three in the morning. I'm a mother now!"

"Oh I can definitely see that," Chuck drawls as he watches the baby, a boy if the blue blanket is any indication, try to suckle her breast through her silk robe. "And anytime you want to begin _nursing_ your progeny I am more than happy to watch. Or lend a helping hand. You know how I enjoy supporting children's causes."

"You are sick," Blair growls even as her eyes brighten slightly under the slightly underhanded compliment. Nate never notices her, never touches her, never even kisses her except for those forced publicity poses his PR company forces them into from time to time; and if there is anybody who would know it's Chuck.

He has supplied the sperm for all three, or is it four he can never keep track, Waldorf-Archibald babies after all.

"Have you eaten yet?" Blair asks when the baby, a girl in boy's clothing apparently, finally falls asleep enough to be deposited into her crib. "And before you say anything even remotely offensive to me, no I don't care. I just don't want the boys to see you slumped on the porch in a puddle of your own piss again. I want them to be at least in kindergarten before they have to deal with your drunk ass."

"Last time was an accident," Chuck slurs as he watches Blair tuck the baby in before switching off the nightlight and making her way to him. "I like the robe Waldorf," He grins as she lifts one of his arms over her shoulders and leers down at her cleavage. "More particularly I like what you _don't_ have on underneath."

"I learned how to make homemade pasta today," Blair carries on almost as though he hasn't spoken, carefully leading him downstairs and away from anything breakable or priceless. "Butternut squash ravioli. You'll love it."

"As long as it doesn't taste like your home-made tomato soup last week," Chuck grimaces when she finally settles him into a tall chair in the stainless steel and marble wonder that is the Waldorf-Archibald kitchen. "I still can't get the taste of _that_ out of my mouth."

"You finished your bowl," Blair glares daggers at him. "And asked for seconds. And took the leftovers home."

"I was trying to save Nathanial."

"You licked your bowl Chuck," She folds her arms across her chest, unwittingly pushing her braless cleavage up until he can almost see the puffy pink-brown areolas of her nipples.

And Chuck decides that enough is enough. He is sick of waiting, sick of listening to Nate gush over Serena, sick of watching and wanting when it is infinitely easier to just grab Blair with both hands and pull her astride his lap.

"Your next baby is going to be a Bass," He breathes into her open mouth. If it isn't quite the proposal he imagined on the drive up to the Waldorf-Archibald residence, it isn't terrible either. "I mean it, Waldorf. I won't put out again until you make an honest man out of me."

"In case it has somehow escaped your notice Chuck, I'm married already." She pouts. "And I thought you enjoyed _procreating_ with me."

"I'm willing to make sacrifices for what I want," He lets out a long and loud sigh as he rests the point of his chin on her shoulder. "I would make a great husband. I'd enjoy your crappy food, play golf with the boys and kiss chase with the girls…"

"I don't think girls play kiss chase with their fathers, Chuck."

"I could play with you then," He smirks. "Let them pick up pointers."

"Or you could just let them play hopscotch with the nanny while you take me out to dinner," She says softly against his shoulder. "I don't remember the last time anybody ever took me took me out on a proper date."

"I'd take you out everyday," Chuck promises with a kiss to her hair.

-


End file.
